


Unrequited

by Endlessly_Searching



Series: Dream SMP [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Dream Smp, Enjoy some good old angst, HAHAH WHY IS THAT A TAG, Hurt No Comfort, Just like supernatural said: kill you gays, Lies, M/M, No Lesbians Die, No betas we die... we just die, Pain, Requited Unrequited Love, The smp can't get any sadder you say?, WHY DID IT POP UP WHEN I SEARCHED 'WE DIE LIKE', bury them, canon death boys, ever just confess your love for someone while they die? No? well dream does, it's over for you hoes, send them to super hell, sorry no, this is weirdly beautiful, watch as I come for all the happy bitches brands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessly_Searching/pseuds/Endlessly_Searching
Summary: “I’m in love with you.”They were just five words. One contraction followed by an adjective, then a noun, a preposition, and a pronoun to tie it all up like a sweet bow. A sentence that was supposed to be a present, a gift to the receiver, meant to incite a positive emotional reaction. Happiness.So why did they spell out his demise?Or,Dream smp dnf being real down bad. o7
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Dream SMP [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093283
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during a full on panic attack. I needed a distraction/outlet. 
> 
> Ever need to get out of writers block? Just happen upon your worst trigger. Also this was inspired by my friends lovely art (which was not the trigger lol), he's too good and I wanted to write smth about it for a while. He knows who he is, the barking gremlin. 
> 
> For him: I said I would kill him bitch, you wanted me to pull up? I pulled up.

“I’m in love with you.”

A sickly simple phrase, George thought, composed with brevity, finality. Delivered in a way akin to a gunshot to the back of the head, executioner style. Facing away from the shooter, hands up, the shot was expected yet unexpected. That’s how George felt now, the words once left unfired shot and his inevitable demise upon him. Blindsided by his own stupidity, why had he kept his back turned, why didn’t he run?

He tasted metallic, _rust_. “What?” He asked, words mouthed around the blood in his mouth, it was trickling from his nose and into his mouth. His taste buds curled at it, the liquid was thick and bitter. 

It was just five words spoken by one man. 

“I couldn’t be Achilles.” Dream stated, hand coming up to rest softly on George’s cheek, the ends of his fingers curling into his hair, carding through it like one would with a scared animal. His hand was warm, it was never normally.

His touch was usually cold and sharp, like his words which always cut through conversation, meant to sway people with deadly accuracy. Now his tone was gentle, his words drawn out and slow like warm viscous honey. His hand reflected this, his touch felt golden like the heat from the sun. 

George looked dazedly up at him, it was like he was seeing through wrinkled clear wrap. The image of Dream was distorted, straddling his hips, looming above him,

He was always above him, always one step ahead. 

But George could never stop looking, never stopped looking up to him, not when he exiled Tommy, not when he dethroned him, not when he continued to scheme against them. 

Dream always drew attention in the wrong ways, but he never failed to draw it. Though George was probably the only one who still looked with eyes untouched by hate, stomach not yet twisted in malice, lungs not burning with loathing. 

Even now. 

His voice cracked as he spoke, raw from the screams torn from his mouth. “Why?” He asked. 

George’s eyelids were heavy and weighed down by emotion, the strength leaving his body with the blood pooling from around them. Dream stared back at him, eyes on full display, mask long since gone. They were planets with their own gravitational pool, entrapping George’s gaze, he had no choice but to get lost in them. 

Oddly enough tears rained from them, trickling down onto George. Tears expressed anguish, agony, pain. In contrast Dream’s face was blank, it reminded George of his mask. His heart clenched with a sense of unnerve, as gorgeous as the depth of those eyes was, they were blank. Just desolate planets, life never inhibiting their surface, they were barren. It was like he hadn’t ever taken off the mask. 

“I can’t have a weakness.” He whispered. It was an explanation George had already known, but it didn’t prevent the horror from itching into his skin. The once entrancing eyes were trapping, restricting. The weight of the other on top of him was making him buzz with a sick energy, he wanted to run though he couldn’t, pinned to the ground, helpless. 

_“I’m in love with you.”_ The words still echoed in George’s nearly empty head. 

Things were getting fuzzy. 

They were just five words. One contraction followed by an adjective, then a noun, a preposition, and a pronoun to tie it all up like a sweet bow. A sentence that was supposed to be a present, a gift to the receiver, meant to incite a positive emotional reaction. _Happiness_. 

It was just a phrase meant to be a present. 

George’s eyes flicked down to his abdomen, escaping the horror that was the blank expression on Dream’s face.

It was just one sword, diamond blade, enforced with netherite, gorgeously carved hilt, easily pierced through him. 

_Is that how Dream intended this?_ _A gift?_

George looked away from the grip Dream still had on the sword, away from his own blood painted brightly on Dream’s hand. 

“This- The base-” He stuttered, words meshing in his brain as he felt himself begin to slide into unconsciousness. Staring right back at him, in Dream’s eyes, was the reflection of him. Bloody and weak, laying out on the cold stone below them, his eyes just as blank as the other. “You were supposed to be safe. I was supposed to be safe.” He finished. 

With a feeble hand George reached out, hand coming to rest on Dream’s knee. Once his skin met the fabric he grabbed, gripping on to it like it would hold him on to the world. Dream’s eyes flickered down to it, and if it weren’t for the tears George would think he was blind, unable to see what he had done, the destruction he had incurred. 

“This world was never safe for you.” He explained, hand leaving the hilt of the sword and covering George’s. Now they both had hands wet with his blood. 

_No,_ George thought, 

_This world was never safe from you._

Tears began to fall from his eyes, face twisting into an expression of visceral emotion. He was dying, the pain had faded, his nerves shutting off as his body systems collapsed, he could no longer feel Dream. There was nothing he could do but accept it, but he couldn’t even do that. 

He didn’t want to go. 

The hand that had once rested on his cheek now cradled the back of his head, keeping it from falling to the floor as he could no longer keep it up. The care in which it was done with was mocking, of course the only time Dream allowed himself to touch like this was in death. George wondered where that care was when he thrust the sword into him, pinning him to the ground like some animal.

His lips barely moved, tongue struggling to form the words. “How could yo-” his voice gave up. 

The grip on the back of his head tightened, not unlike the grip that was once on the sword.

“I love you.” Dream forced, the mask of his face expression finally breaking. George was finally seeing him, face disrupted like ripples in a lake. He was unbearably expressive, expression constantly shifting and fluctuating. The more George tried to track them the more vague it all became. Though there was one thing he couldn’t help but see, 

Dream looked angry, like he wasn’t the one who had driven the blade through George. Like he hadn’t planned this from the start. Like he hadn’t tricked George, lured him back to his side, followed him down the forest path, away from the group. As if he had been forced to do this, to betray George without warning.

Though maybe the favor Dream had held for him had been his warning all along. 

He should’ve been more cautious. Should’ve known, Dream never wanted a weakness, never wanted to lose control. But when he saw the signs, flowers left for him to find, eyes spying from between leaves, unexplained resources finding their way to him, he only felt warmth. For once it hadn’t felt like he was just looking up at Dream, because he thought, maybe Dream had been peering back. 

And he was right about that.

Because now Dream peered over him, pinning him to the ground with his weight, holding him in his hands like he was something to be cherished, saying that he loved him. 

Dream, his ex knight, his best friend, his companion through the wars, through the conflict, the man that stuck around even when they fought. 

The man he fell in love with. One he never stopped loving, even as he destroyed the world around them. Played with it like it was his own personal sandbox, manipulated them all like they were only puppets in his game, pieces on a chess board they couldn’t see. But the world around them falling apart never mattered when Dream was the world to him. He loved him like he was his everything and maybe he was. 

But love was the one thing Dream couldn’t control, couldn’t utilize. Things like that only ever got destroyed. 

George should've known he'd have to destroy it, destroy him. 

Love was the very thing that Dream manipulated in so many others, used against them, so he couldn’t see it as anything but a weakness. And that was because he used it as a weakness, took hold of the love between others and used it as leverage. He knew the horrors and detriment that love could cause because he did them himself.

George stared down at the blade in his chest, eyes barely capturing the image of it. It was plunged into him with those five words, words that he now knew were a curse, his spoken demise. 

_If this was what love was,_ he thought, eyes slipping shut and body falling lax. 

**Then it was unrequited.**

**Author's Note:**

> That's an L am I right guys? How unpog of Dream lol. 
> 
> Scream at me in the comments, they fuel me. Share my pain. 
> 
> Oh and if you like this check out my other fics. The ongoing one has fluff :D


End file.
